


schön, dass wir uns kennen

by raregoose



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Together, M/M, Math Major Connor, Meet-Ugly, Musician Leon, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:45:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raregoose/pseuds/raregoose
Summary: If Connor had his way, he'd be spending his time cooped up in his dorm room with his Lagrange multipliers and vector fields. But the universe seems to have other plans for him. These plans include: coffee, a hot international student / musician, and a lot more physical injury than is probably necessary for two people to get to know each other.





	schön, dass wir uns kennen

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a year ago and recently rediscovered it. I thought I'd dust it off and post it because why not? It combines two of my great loves: math and German music. The concept of turning a meet-cute on its head to be a "meet-ugly" was first introduced to me years ago, I believe through a tumblr post or a fic on here somewhere. It just feels so deliciously rom-commy and silly and plain fun.
> 
> The title comes from the song Lieblingsmensch by Namika, and can be translated as "beautiful, that we know each other".
> 
> disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction that does not represent anything I believe or wish to be true. It is an exercise of creative writing!

“Dude. Dude. Stop. Oh my God, you need to get out of here. We’re going out.” Connor whined as Taylor yanked on his arm, trying to pull him away from his desk. “I swear to God, Connor, it is 10 P.M. on a Friday night, you don’t need to be studying,” Taylor continued.

Connor pouted but relented and dropped his calculator and his pencil. “Fine, but I want coffee, no alcohol.” Taylor groaned but accepted the condition. Anything to stop Connor from muttering about triple integrals.

Taylor texted Jordan, and he was waiting for them outside their dorm. He trudged quietly with them through the snow to the 24 hour coffee shop across campus. Connor was grumpy, because he’d been on a roll with that proof. Taylor was grumpy, because Connor had been studying non-stop for his math final and it was borderline concerning. Jordan was just uncomfortable.

The coffee shop was still somewhat bustling, not surprising considering the caffeine problem most college students have, and the ever-nearer beginning of finals. Connor stirred a single spoonful of sugar into his coffee, while Jordan took his black. Taylor poured milk into his until it was pale. They sat at a table in the middle of the shop awkwardly in silence, sipping. Connor traced sine curves on the table with his finger, stopping only when a loud feedback screech shocked him, and the rest of the people in the cafe.

“Sorry,” a deep voice came over the mic where the feedback sound had come from. Connor turned to see a cleanly dressed roughly-his-age guy unpacking a guitar. Okay, sue him if his head perked up a little. Multivariable calculus only gets you so many dates. He was broad, with messy brown hair and the beard of someone who hadn’t shaved in a few days.

“Hi everyone,” handsome boy with guitar continued. “Happy finals. I’m Leon, I’m gonna play a few songs.” He, _Leon_ , Connor thought, was succinct; he could appreciate that.

He started to play some soothing, slow guitar music, singing with a pleasant voice. Taylor and Jordan noticed how Connor had been watching him and were exchanging whispered remarks about it.

“See, man, this is what I told you,” Taylor said, elbowing Connor. “You need to get out and do fun shit like this. Bros, coffee, cute music majors, eh?” 

“Shut up,” Connor said, but there was no fire in it. He blushed, glancing toward Leon but turning back to his table when he made eye contact with him.

The coffee helped, as it always did. The conversation ambled from finals to summer plans to family news to funny family stories. Connor found himself red-faced, giggling, and not even close to thinking about any sort of integrals. It was truly amazing, how coffee could solve any problem known to man.

“When he’s done,” Taylor said under his breath, cocking his head in Leon the musician’s direction, “you should ask for his number.” Connor shook his head.

“No, it’s not a good time.” He looked at Leon again, who was sipping on a cup of water between songs. If he was confident, maybe, if he knew how to make eye contact and string sentences together like a normal person, maybe.

“It’s never really a good time, eh? Always some big test leering around the corner. Always someone just a bit cuter than you at the next table over.” Taylor took a big swig of his coffee, which Connor honestly wasn’t sure was non-alcoholic. “Con, I will say, that if you’re always too afraid to try things, the whole world will just, y’know-” he wiggled his fingers; Connor furrowed his brow “-pass you by, or whatever.”

“Just fuckin’ go for it, that’s what I say,” Jordan said, nodding. “Big campus, you’ll probably never even see him again if he says no.” Connor considered it. There were lots of fish in the sea on campus, it’s just the problem was that Connor wasn’t casting, and when he was, they sure weren’t biting. He kinda figured he’d just meet someone at a conference a few years down the road and then just marry him.

“One final song, and this one goes out to all the other international students here tonight,” Leon said from his stool in the corner, strumming his guitar. Connor groaned.

“Of course he’s foreign,” he said. Taylor and Jordan giggled. “Okay, fine, I’ll talk to him after, but only because I can use cultural differences as an excuse when he’s creeped out.”

If Connor had to guess, he would say that the safest assumption would be that Leon was German. The last song was almost definitely German, and although he could’ve been Swiss or Austrian or something of the like, Connor liked to live his life in the safety of majority chance.

He didn’t understand a word of the song, but nodded along anyway. Taylor and Jordan elbowed each other and he pretended to not notice.

When it ended, Connor somehow managed to clap like a functional human and stood up without shaking too much. He took a step forward, groaned, and turned around back to Jordan and Taylor, shaking his head furiously. Handsome singer Leon was scrubbing a hand through his hair and sipping his water.

“I can’t d-”

“Go!” Jordan and Taylor both said, pushing Connor away from the table and toward the corner where Leon had been playing.

He walked over, reciting what he was going to say in his head repeatedly, then promptly tripped over an amp cord and knocked beautiful musician Leon over.

“Uh,” Leon said at the same time Connor said, “Oh, Jesus, Oh my God, I’m so sorry, holy fuck.”

They both stopped, looked at each other blankly for a moment, and then Leon stood up.

“Here, let’s start over,” he said, adjusting his shirt. He stuck a hand out to Connor. “Hi, I’m Leon. I’m studying music, if you couldn’t tell.”

Connor shook his hand and hyper-focused too hard on the warmth and size of Leon’s hand in his own and just how _big_ he was up close that when he opened his mouth, what tumbled out was a too-fast, “My name’s math and I’m a Connor major!”

Leon tilted his head to the side, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Or, uh,” Connor continued, “the other way around. Name’s Connor, major’s math.” He internally groaned because of course he already messed the whole thing up.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Connor the math major.” Leon smiled. He was packing up his guitar, placing it into his case but still looking up at Connor.

“You too. I just, uh, wanted to tell you that I really liked your set. And, uh-” He was, luckily, perhaps, cut off from trying to ask Leon out by a sharp alarm coming from Leon’s back pocket. Leon whipped his phone out and looked at it, then up at Connor.

“I’m so sorry, I just-” he gestured at the phone “-emergency, just came up.” He grabbed his guitar case. “I gotta run, but, hey, see you around campus sometime?” He pat Connor on the shoulder as he ran out the door, leaving Connor standing stunned alone. Turning back to Taylor and Jordan, who were watching the scene raptly, he thought that at least, it could’ve gone worse. Both he and handsome Leon survived the encounter, at the very least, so it wasn’t the _worst_ case scenario.

“That was, uh,” Jordan began, as they trekked back to their dorm rooms.

“Pretty fuckin’ awful, man,” Taylor finished for him, ever the blunt one of the two. “God, it was like a train wreck, we just couldn’t tear our eyes away. I mean, I feel bad, but dude, c’mon, how did you fuck up so bad that you shoved him over _and_ made him run away?”

Connor groaned. “I don't know, I tripped on the stupid cord and pushed his stupid beautiful ass over and then his phone rang and he ran away, ugh,” he whined, dropping his head on Taylor's shoulder.

“There, there, man.” Taylor weakly patted Connor’s face.

*

It was halfway through finals week, so Connor was running on coffee and the white light from his laptop.

The main arts building on campus, conveniently near the math and sciences library, had a perfect little coffee bar, a quick stop sort of place with a case of pastries and a coffee machine. Connor had been avoiding the arts building in hopes of not seeing Leon, but he needed coffee and better there than the cafe where Leon had played.

Carrying his notes from studying, Connor ordered his coffee, picked it up with his free hand, then turned around and immediately was bumped into and found himself and all of his math notes soaked with someone's scorching hot coffee.

“Scheiße, sorry man, and all over your notes too, fuck me.” Connor looked up from his previously white and now brown t-shirt to see none other than the (still beautiful) Leon getting up, holding an empty coffee cup. After he stood to his full height and made eye contact with his coffee victim, there was a moment of realization as they remembered each other.

“Oh, it’s you,” Leon said.

“Uh, yep,” Connor replied as he peeled sticky and unreadable proofs and graphs off of himself.

“Connor the math major,” Leon sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry about the coffee. And about running off on you the other night. Family emergency. Here, let me help you with that.” He grabbed Connor’s notes, trying to air them out. He let out a low whistle when he caught a glimpse of the work. “I’m not sure about the, uh, brown, but I know a place where we can dry these off.” He gestured for Connor, who followed blindly.

Leon led him, his guitar case strapped to his back, through the arts building, winding around people with canvases and cellos and giant cameras. They arrived in a corner of the building where the walls were plastered entirely over with paintings. Connor spun around, certain that he could not get back to the entrance if pressed.

“Here,” Leon said, waving Connor forward. By one of the classroom doors, there was a set of racks, some filled with drying paintings and some empty. “This is a perfect place for them to dry.” Connor smiled.

“Thanks so much.” He started to lay out his notes, then paused. “You sure no one will get mad at me for taking up rack space with calculus notes?” Leon smirked and waved a dismissive hand.

“No way, you're fine. I can't promise they won't give you any weird looks for the shirt though.” Leon's eyes crinkled and Connor looked sheepishly down at his coffee-stained top. 

“Hey, you did this to me!”

“True, sorry about that. I’ll buy you a new plain white t-shirt and send it to you, how does that sound?” They started walking back out of the depths of the art building, Connor trailing at Leon's heels.

“That sounds perfect.”

“Anyway, how’re your finals going? They seem harder than mine,” Leon raised a brow at Connor.

“Oh, I dunno,” he said, shrugging through his words, “math might seem like a foreign language to you, but it’s the same with all those music notes and theory stuff you guys do. I can read music as easily as I can read German.” Leon chuckled.

“Well, if you ever wanted to learn how to read either of those mysterious languages, I could maybe help you out.” Connor choked on his own air. Leon was certainly forward, easily confident working his way around a language that wasn’t his first. Connor became painfully aware for a moment how inadequate he felt. “But,” Leon continued, “only if you’d promise to return the favor with calculus.” 

When Leon smiled, it was like something lit on fire under Connor’s ribs, and it was desperate to get out.

They reached the lobby.

“This, uh, is my stop,” Connor said, before internally cringing. Leon laughed.

“Uh, safe travels? Good luck on the rest of your finals. Sorry for spilling my hot coffee on you.”

“Yeah, you too!” Connor nodded, but didn’t move. 

He was still nodding, and still not moving, when Leon said, “So, yeah, I’ll see you around?” He waved and walked off. Connor turned around and walked straight into the glass door of the arts building because he was looking at Leon’s butt instead of where he was going. He groaned and walked out, ignoring the strange looks of many students.

*

“Jesus,” Taylor greeted him, “you're supposed to _drink_ the coffee, Con, not pour it all over yourself like some sort of animal!” Connor stripped off the shirt and chucked it at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said. “Anyway, this wasn't me, it was Leon, from the other night. The music major.” Taylor sat up.

“The hot music major poured his coffee on you? Wow, sounds like he's really into you, man.”

“It was an accident!” Connor squawked. “He helped me find a place to dry off my notes, too.”

“The customary German mating ritual, as I'm sure you know,” Taylor said. Connor rolled his eyes.

*

He survived finals, somehow. Break felt instantaneous, like he was home laughing and shoving handfuls of snow into Stromer’s face one moment, and driving back to campus in dreary weather with a rain-soaked duffel in the passenger seat the next. Connor grumbled as he parked along the sidewalk and wrestled out of his seatbelt. He grabbed his duffel in one hand, blindly shoving his door open with the other, only to hear a loud crunch and some cries of pain.

“What the-” he began, spinning to look out his door. There was a broken bicycle on the ground and continued sounds of pain from the other side of the door. “Oh, shit,” he said, realizing what he’d done.

“Oh, shit,” he repeated when he noticed that the biker he’d doored who was holding his face and bleeding onto the pavement was, you guessed it, hot musician Leon. “Fuck, dude, are you alright? Shit, okay, I’ll call health services.” He shut his door and helped Leon up. His nose was gushing blood and did not seem to be bent the same way he remembered.

“We’ve _got_ to stop meeting like this,” Leon said through a mouthful of blood, shaking his head and smiling (the smile was indeed still cute, despite being missing a tooth or two).

*

The doctor said Leon’s nose was broken. Connor sat at his bedside with his face in his hands, listening to the doctor scold him about dooring and the importance of checking before opening his door.

When he left, there was an awkward moment of silence before Leon broke out in peals of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed, voice nasally from his nose being taped up, “but you gotta admit there's at least _something_ funny about this.” He gestured to his face. The machine he was wired to beeped.

Connor stared at him emptily, amazed at how someone whose bike and face were both just brutally destroyed could be laughing at a moment like this. To him, it seemed like the perfect moment for directionless and hysterical panic, followed by at least a week of stress-studying.

Leon smiled. “C’mon, it’s weird. It _is_. Doesn’t it seem, even a little, like the universe is trying to tell us something?”

“Yeah,” Connor scoffed, “telling us to stay the fuck away from each other, for our own safety.”

And maybe that was the breaking point, for whatever reason. Connor’s words sunk in, and then the sheer absurdity of the situation passed over him like a haze and the nervous, calculating part of himself let go. He dissolved into giggles at his own joke, Leon laughing along breathily.

“Maybe so,” Leon said, continuing to laugh, “but maybe we should go somewhere, definitely not a coffee shop though, and get to know each other, as a ‘fuck you’ to the universe.” Connor smiled.

“Yeah, sounds good. We’ll really stick it to the universe, eh?” Connor said. Leon’s face brightened. “I just have one question.”

Leon tilted his head. “And what is that?”

“Are you deathly allergic to anything?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ raregoose. I'm not a huge Oilers fan but I do like both Connor and Leon, and this pairing has always just hit the spot for me for whatever reason!


End file.
